Page 73 of Hopelessly in Love

For the first time since I hired him, John looks angry. “No fucking way. Do not go there.” He shakes his head, stands up from the table, and begins pacing on the patio. “I didn’t take this case because I wanted to make a quick buck. I intend to win, so you need to keep your head in the game, and we need to regroup.”

It’s a different side of him than I’ve seen before, and I like it. This is the kind of fire I want from my lawyer. I’m not sure why it took this new challenge to bring it out in him, but I’ll take it.

But I have no idea how to make the situation better, so I stare at him blankly.

John makes a few circles around the patio, lifting various objects and putting them down again. A lemon from a bowl on the table. A candle from a cluster arranged on the balcony railing. A throw pillow from the double-wide porch swing, which has sat unused for the past few days.

Every detail he fixes on has something to do with Callie. Either she found it somewhere in the house and put it on the porch to make it look cuter, more homey for one of our fake relationship photos. Or it was part of a night we had together after Scout went to bed.

Candles, pillows, artwork. She’s left her mark everywhere at my house. It feels real, just as John is pacing around, worried about the fact that it’s not.

“Okay, here’s what we’re going to do. We need to get on top of this before it festers. Before Elizabeth’s lawyers have time to turn it into a deal breaker. I already put in a call to the court, and if we can get in front of the judge within the next day or so, we can throw ourselves at her mercy. Tell her everything. Say you only did it out of total devotion to your son. You felt desperate enough to go to these ridiculous lengths to keep him close. She’s reasonable, at least I hope so. I think it’s your best shot.”

“Really? That’s your best plan? I tell her I lied to prove that I’m a good parent?”

“I know, it’s almost counterintuitive enough that it could work. Judges are human. And you’re an appealing guy, when you want to be.”

“Gee, thanks.”

“I mean that you can make her see that you did it all for Scout. That you’d do anything for him. Even concoct a ridiculous scenario and go to all the trouble of making something utterly fake seem real. For your son.”

The more he emphasizes that “utterly fake” nature of my arrangement with Callie, the more I feel a surge of bile in my throat. I know it’s true, but hearing the words out loud hollows me out. I almost hate the idea of insisting on just how fake it is more than I initially hated the idea of going along with the stunt.

“How did I fuck everything up so badly?” I ask, still a few beats behind John, who is already perched on the edge of the porch swing, dictating notes into his phone.

“Out of desperation…knows it was wrong to fabricate a relationship…has been a steady, positive influence as a single dad for many years and will be for many more to come…doesn’t need antiquated traditions about two-parent families to provide the best possible environment…”

As I listen to John’s new list of my qualifications as a good parent, I can’t believe it’s taken getting busted for lying to make him sing my praises. The truth as a last resort.

Closing my eyes against the monumental disaster I’ve created, my mind goes to a new place. One way or another, this case will have an outcome sooner than I expected.

CHAPTER 28

Callie

Luke and I don’t talk during the drive to the courthouse. His lawyer managed to arrange a meeting in front of the judge, but Luke has barely had time to fill me in on what he plans to say or what he wants me to say.

All I’ve gotten so far are panicked broad strokes, starting with a text this morning.